


You and You and Me

by letmegeekatyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Sam, F/M, M/M, Multi, POV Multiple, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmegeekatyou/pseuds/letmegeekatyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Cas want to make room in their relationship for Meg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and You and Me

**Author's Note:**

> cw: contains references to past sexual trauma (implied rape, mentions of Sam's time in the Cage)

 

"Why don’t you stay with us, Meg? Cas is gonna miss you." Sam was sitting on her bed, watching her pack. She didn’t have much, but she was taking a few books and weapons the Winchesters could afford to part with. Things that would help her now that she was persona non grata with pretty much everybody. She wrapped a bottle of holy water in a t-shirt, just to be safe, and tossed it in with the rest.

"He’s your angel, sweetie. You and Dean, you two adopted him, and _you_ … I don’t even want to know what you do when it’s just the two of you.” Cas had barely looked at her since he started hooking up with Sam. And it wasn’t like she blamed him; why would he want her when he had that glowing, golden, _good_ soul to keep him warm at night? She stuffed a battered copy of _The Art of War_ into the bag. “I’m better on my own.”

"So, why do you watch him when he doesn’t know you’re looking?" _A+ observational skills Winchester. Why not use them to see I don’t want to talk about this?_

"That doesn’t mean anything, Dr. Freud. He’s not hard on the eyes, that’s all. Besides, he doesn’t…"

"What?"

"He doesn’t look at me, okay? Not anymore. I watch Cas, Cas watches you, and me? I’m the kid without a toy." Sam was frowning at her. The zipper on the bag caught as she pulled it, and she had to try twice more to shut the bag. "So, I’ll get out of your hair, if that’s—"

"Wait…" Sam sat up from where he’d been leaning against the headboard. "What do you want? To be with Cas?"

 _Yes_ , her treacherous heart supplied. _I want to fuck him silly and play with his hair and steal his burger, and I want him to look at me again like he used to. Like I’m a fucking drug and he doesn’t wanna get clean._

"No," she snapped. "I’m a demon, Sam, in case you forgot. Demons don’t get with angels. Or vice versa." Meg threw the bag over her shoulder and tried to walk past him, but Sam stood and stopped her with a hand on her arm. She had a knife in her sleeve that would get him to let go pretty fast, but somehow she didn’t want to use it. Instead she just stood there, looking out the door, trying to ignore the way he brushed his thumb over her arm.

"Meg, I know you. Better than you want to believe. And I know _him,_ too.”

"Shut up, Winchester. It’s not—"

"No, listen." He took her other arm and turned her so that she had to look at him. "I love Cas with all my heart, and he loves me. But he loves you, too…"

"And he chose. It’s simple." _He chose the hero. He chose right._

"He never chose, because you never asked him. Meg, he doesn’t _belong_ to me, and I would never stop him from being happy. I don’t want you to be unhappy either. You’re… my friend. I think. More or less.”

Meg searched his face. Fucking Sam, with his puppydog eyes and his giant heart that was just an unmissable target for every sharp object in the world, herself included. _I don’t have friends_ , she told herself. _I never asked you to look after me. Even when I wanted to._

But he _was_ looking after her. And Cas. What did that even mean, wanting Meg and Cas to be happy? Something ugly and noisy sat in the pit of her stomach. Something like hope and the fear of hope. If it was anybody else, if it was Dean, she’d think he was angling for a threesome. But Sam Winchester never asked for anything for himself.

"So, you mean… what? You’d share him with me? Three nights each, and an orgy on Sundays?" She quirked her eyebrow at him, lascivious and suggestive, and folded her arms across her chest to try to cover the way her heart was beating against her ribs.

"I mean that we have to find out what Cas wants."

Meg was silent for a moment. She felt Sam’s eyes on her as she looked at the ground between them, and she couldn’t help thinking of Cas’s eyes. Of what they’d look like when he looked her over and tried to decide whether she had anything to offer that he couldn’t get from Sam. How he stared and squinted and tilted his head when he didn’t understand _._ Whether he’d look her in the eye when he turned her down.

"And if he says he doesn’t want me?"

Sam smiled.

"That’s impossible."

But it wasn’t impossible. It was very possible. And if she left now, she wouldn’t have to know that from experience.

"I can’t. Clean cuts are better." She wrenched herself out of Sam’s hands, and he didn’t fight her. "Catch ya later, Winchester. You’re not so bad, for a human. Try not to get yourself killed."

Sam just stood and looked at her, and she found herself waiting. Wasn’t he going to say goodbye? Hug her or pat her on the back at least? Some doofus thing that didn’t mean _I love you_ but was as close as he could get with something like her?

"Will you let me ask him?" he finally said. "Meg, I don’t want you to be lonely, and I know you won’t stay for me. But if he wanted you to, wouldn’t you at least consider it?"

 _Yesyesyes,_ she thought. _I’d stay for him. I’d stay if he never touched me again, if he asked. Don’t you see how that scares me?_

But she didn’t say any of that. She just took a deep breath and threw her bag on the bed behind her.

"One day. I need a drink." She stopped in the doorway, not quite looking back. "If he says no," she added, "you won’t need to tell me. I’ll figure it out."

She left before he could answer, went to find something strong to drown whatever it was inside her that kept whispering, _maybe he’ll say yes_.

 

* * *

 

Sam found Cas in his own room, reading. They could often be found in each other’s rooms, but both appreciated having private space, too. There’s something infinitely reassuring about having a door you can close that no one will open without permission. Cas’s door was open, though, so Sam didn’t feel he was intruding when he knocked on the doorframe.

"Hey, got a minute?" he asked. "I need to talk to you about something." He hoped he sounded casual, because he felt anything but. He felt anxious and hopeful and a number of other things he couldn’t quite put a name to.

"Of course." Cas marked his place with a fake ID—there were always plenty of those lying around—and set the book aside. "You look worried. What’s wrong?"

So much for casual. Sam sat on the side of the bed, turning with one leg up so he could face Cas. He wasn’t sure where to start this conversation. How do you tell your boyfriend that you think he would be happier if he had a girlfriend, too?

"Meg’s leaving," he finally said. "I convinced her to stay ‘til tomorrow, but she’s got her stuff packed, and she’s ready to go."

Cas sat up straighter.

"Why? Where will she go? I thought…" he glanced around the room, toward the door as if he expected Meg to join them, then back at Sam. "I thought she was…one of us. Family."

“That’s the thing, Cas. She… Look, she gave me the okay to tell you this, but only barely. She has feelings for you, but she sees you with me, and… Well, she thinks you don’t want her, and that makes staying too painful.” Cas’s face fell, and Sam continued quietly, “but you do want her, don’t you?”

"Sam, you and I have a commitment—"

"That’s not what I asked, babe." He pulled his other leg onto the bed so that they were both sitting with their legs crossed, knees touching, and reached out for Cas’s hands. Cas let Sam pull their joined hands into his lap. "I don’t want to give you up, Cas. I don’t. That’s not what I’m asking. But I want you to be happy, and I know there are things I don’t give you that she…"

"Sam, stop. Please, don’t talk like that," Cas insisted. "You know how much I love you, and I don’t feel that our relationship is incomplete without sex." Sam couldn’t meet his eyes, and Cas softened his tone. "I never want you to feel like I need anything more from you than what you already give me." He reached up to cup Sam’s cheek, and Sam took a shaky breath. "You already give me so much."

It had been a long road between the two of them, many conversations, some arguments and miscommunications, false starts and frustration. When Sam was finally able to say that he didn’t know whether he would ever want to sleep with Cas, or anyone, it was with tears in his eyes, but Cas… Cas had just looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Sam was seeing _himself_ for the first time, in a way, and after that, things had been easier. Not always easy, but easier. They’d found a way to be together that made Sam… well, _happy_. Really happy. But now he couldn’t help but feel he was still holding Cas back from his own happiness.

"I’m not asking to end this," he finally said. "But I want you to be free to love and be with other people, too, if you need to. If you want to." He gave Cas a determined look. "And this isn’t just about sex; It’s not even _mostly_ about sex. I just… I know how much you care about her. Tell me the truth, Cas. It’s okay. You can say it.”

Castiel looked down at their joined hands, and for a moment, Sam thought he was going to say no. But he must know how much that would break Sam’s heart, to hear Cas lie to him, to hear him stifle his own heart for the sake of Sam’s.

"I care for her very much," Cas finally said, still looking at their hands. "I never anticipated this, but I never anticipated you, either," he added, laughing a little and finally looking up at Sam, who squeezed his hands affectionately. Cas took a deep breath. "I don’t want her to leave, and I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know what to do."

"We can make it work, you know. You can be with me and with her, and it wouldn’t take anything away from what we have. Loving more than one person doesn’t mean you love anybody any less."

Castiel frowned, searching Sam’s eyes.

"Sam, are you suggesting this because you believe that we can all be happy with such an arrangement, or is it because you still believe you aren’t good enough for me? I was honest with you; now it’s your turn."

Sam sighed. Honestly, he didn’t know. His impulse was always to give, to let go, and how much of that came from generosity and how much came from insecurity was a complicated question with no easy answer.

"I wish I could say for sure, Cas. I think it’ll make you happy, and Meg, too, and that makes me happy. But part of me will always feel like I’m… like you can do better than me. I don’t know, Cas. I don’t know how to be sure which part of me wants this. And maybe she _will_ make you happier than I do. I don’t want to let you go, but I don’t want to stand in the way. I’m not sure I’m even making sense.”

Cas was quiet for a moment, but Sam’s mind was loud with worry and confusion; he tried to focus on the way their knees were touching, the careful firmness with which Cas held his hands _._

"Can I hold you, Sam?"

Sam nodded. His frown softened as he let the angel pull him down onto the bed. Here, with his head on Cas’s chest and Cas’s arms around him, he felt more peaceful than anywhere else in the world. As peaceful as he could be when he still fought himself every step of the way to believe he was loved.

"I wish I knew how to tell you how much you mean to me so that you’d never feel so unsure again," Cas said quietly, rubbing gentle circles into Sam’s back. "And don’t apologize," he added, cutting Sam off with a smile. "It’s not your fault. Your whole life has been full of sorrows, and they have made it hard for you to accept that you deserve love and happiness. I understand, I truly do."

"I’ve felt that way for a long time, Cas. I probably always will. I can’t imagine what it would be like not to be afraid," Sam said quietly, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm around the angel. "But the thought of you being with Meg… it doesn’t make me _more_ afraid. If you let her go, it won’t fix me. It won’t make my baggage disappear. I think,” he added, looking up into Cas’s thoughtful eyes, “it will just make us both… make us _all_ lonelier.”

Castiel nodded. “I’m afraid we’ve all spent too much time being lonely. It’s become a habit. Sam…” He trailed off, looking unsure. Sam waited patiently. “I’d like for Meg to be less lonely,” Cas finally said. “I’d like to ask her to stay. I don’t… I don’t know quite what that will mean, though.”

"I’m glad," Sam answered, sincerely. Something about the idea was growing on him, something that felt like _hope_ and _family_. “And maybe we just need to talk about what it means as we go.”

"Yes, I think you’re right." He smiled down at Sam and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I love you, you know. Every day, I find something new to love about you."

Sam felt a surge of affection, and he moved up to kiss Cas softly. They lay there in comfortable silence for a while before Sam grinned. “You know this means you’re going to have to talk to Meg about her feelings, right? Could be dangerous.”

"Yes. I was just wondering whether I should arm myself."

"And what did you decide?"

"I believe it would be better not to bring more weapons into the discussion than whatever she already has on her person," Cas answered with a smile. "In any case," he added quietly, "the last thing I want to do is hurt her."

"Then don’t keep her waiting," Sam said, moving over and giving Cas an encouraging push. He watched Cas walk toward the door, thinking about how incredible he was, about the boundless capacity of his heart. About how he deserved every ounce of love this world had to offer. "Hey, Cas," he said, and Cas stopped in the doorway to smile back at him, a little nervously. "I love you, too."

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Castiel to realize she was gone--the empty glass next to the whiskey bottle was a clear enough sign. Really, it was what he expected; Meg had a talent for self-preservation, one that extended to her well-hidden heart. The note was a surprise, though: _No hard feelings, Clarence. I hope he treats you right._ Castiel heaved a sigh and smiled. He could hear her voice in his head, see the smirk on her face. This was Meg trying to pretend she didn’t care, but he knew that if that were true, she wouldn’t have left a note at all. This was Meg being sentimental.

He felt unsettled as he gathered materials to summon her back, but it wasn’t to do with Meg, not really. It wasn’t even about Sam; Cas trusted him to be honest, and he always had been, and he believed that, despite the unexpectedness of all of it, the three of them could be happy together. What bothered him was his own eagerness. It confused him, how easily he had agreed to Sam’s proposal. It had been almost impulsive, and he had never been one to act on impulse, especially where others were concerned. A few years ago, he would have simply let her go, accepting that as her final judgment.

But time had passed, and humanity had changed him, and it had taught him to see the world, angels and demons and all, in a different light. A much more complicated, confusing light. It had taught him to see Meg, in particular, and there was something in her that made him feel protective and desirous as he seldom had. A few years ago, he would have worried about what it meant to fall in love with a demon; now, he worried about losing her, about letting her believe that she was unwanted. Now, he worried about what it meant to fall in love, full stop.

With Sam, it had come slowly, with careful affection and a cautious fondness, and they had found themselves, their lives, intricately entwined almost before they realized what was happening. But with Meg… There had been highs and lows, fire and blood. There had been the pizza man, but there had also been Nurse Masters. The way she fought for him and looked after him, when all she had to do for self-preservation was to keep him alive. There was the way she teased him as if he was ordinary, but looked at him as if he was anything but. There was the way she touched him, the way his vessel responded, and there was an intensity to the trust he felt when he thought of her that startled him. He trusted her almost more than he trusted himself.

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he _should_ learn to rely more on others, on his… his family. That was something he had not been able to do in a long time. Perhaps that was what scared him--family had always had something dangerous in it. And now he was creating a new one, and he had to trust that this one would be better than the last. When it was just him and Sam, it was easy to pretend they were something else, something apart, but now they were asking Meg to become part of what they had, and that meant something more like family. It meant there were more hearts to be broken, more chances for things to go wrong, and it frightened him.

So when he found himself standing in the dungeon with the spell ingredients, looking down at the devil’s trap painted onto the floor he knew this was not the right way to go about this. It was his fear that guided his steps here, put him in angel mode, in hunter mode, made him look for a secure place to have this conversation, a place where he could still have some control. It was wrong. He rummaged through the shelves until he found a piece of chalk, and he headed for the kitchen.

Meg liked the kitchen, although she seldom ate aside from stealing bites to aggravate Dean. She would perch on the counter, taking up space and supervising and just generally making her presence felt in the most annoying way she could manage. She was careful not to be accommodating. It was here that she seemed to feel most able to insert herself into the group, a place where she had seemed, from time to time, to feel at home.

He drew the trap in chalk on the floor, hoping more than he could say that Meg had not found a way to ward herself against summoning. The thought that she might be beyond his reach made his chest feel tight. He cast the spell.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, good, a devil’s trap in Kansas. Definitely what I was hoping for when I booked a one-way trip to Australia,” Meg said, folding her arms across her chest. Her stomach was in knots, and she wanted to blame it all on the change of scene, but she knew motion sickness wasn't entirely at fault. Anger and frustration welled up in her as she looked at the angel. He just had to, didn't he? Had to have one more confrontation, one more talk about feelings. Couldn't just let her be... not sad. Not fucking heartbroken. Just... couldn't let her  _be_.

“Well, you don’t exactly carry a cell phone,” Cas replied, crouching to brush his fingers across the boundary of the trap, breaking its hold. He could have done it with his foot to keep himself above her. Could have done it without looking into her eyes with those goddamn baby blues. She felt like a fox the hunter had given a head start.

“Not afraid I’m going to smoke out?” She itched to step out of the trap--even deactivated, it made her skin tingle--but she held her ground instead. If this was goodbye, if this was some damn angel thing about closure, she wasn’t going to make it easy on him by relaxing. She’d stay in the trap he put her in. He straightened up, just kept looking at her, and why'd he have to do that?

“Of course I’m afraid,” he said quietly, and _fuck_ if that didn’t go straight to her heart.

“So why not leave me in here? Keep me as a pet? I’d look good in a collar,” she sneered, and he winced. So, he felt bad about abducting her. _Good. Enjoy the guilt. Swim in it._

“This is… this is me calling you. You can hang up on me if you want. But I hope you won’t.” There was a _please_ in his eyes, one she tried to ignore.

“What do you want, Castiel?”

“To talk,” he answered. “I’m afraid you may be laboring under a misapprehension. Sam tells me that you believe my relationship with him means that I no longer have feelings for you.” _Fucking meddling Winchesters._ She tightened her shoulders until they felt like they'd break.

“Can’t lose what you never had, pigeon lips. Don’t worry, I get it. Rebellious phase. New tattoos. Hot girlfriend from the wrong side of the tracks. Bet you pissed daddy off but good, too. But you’re a couple millenia too old to be playing the petulant teenager anymore, angel. You’re all grown up with a hubby and a sensible car.” Meg felt herself smile a little. _Happy_ , she meant. _You’re happy_. “Maybe even thinking about a picket fence. No more room for the trashy bit on the side.”

“I’m... not entirely sure I followed all that, but I understood the gist.” Castiel frowned at her and stepped forward, smudging the trap more. “Let me be very clear about this,” he said. “First of all, Sam is not my ‘hubby.’ Second of all, I have had feelings for you for some time. I do not want you ‘on the side.’ I simply want you. I want you in my life for as long as you’re willing to stay.”

“Goddammit, Sam,” she muttered. The boy fought happiness like it was drowning him. But this was too big. It was too much, and she couldn’t accept it. They had a shot, the two of them, if she stayed far away. They might be happy. Hell, they might even approach something like normal. "Don't you dare, Cas. Don't break that giant puppy's heart."

“I’m not giving up Sam. I’m not replacing him. I’m being selfish, Meg; I want you both, and Sam thinks we can make that work.”

 _No. I can’t_ , she thought. _I can’t be the chick you bring in to spice up your sex life. I can’t be the one you keep around for fun until you get tired of me. And I can't be Sam. I don't do love._

_And I don’t know how to say no._

“So,” she finally said, jaw tight, “that reaper give you a taste for tits? ‘Cause Sam’s aren’t all that bad. Or are you just getting tired of dick?” Direct hit. She could see it in his confusion and the tilt of his head, like she’d hit his jaw instead of his heart. He turned, and for a minute she thought he’d leave, thought he'd give up, but he just sat on the edge of the kitchen table and looked at his hands before answering her.

“I’m sorry you think me capable of that. I… I thought you understood me better, even if you didn’t know that Sam and I…”

“What?”

“Meg, Sam and I do not have sex. He has no interest, for reasons  of his own, which I respect. I am perfectly capable of abstaining, and I would never ask you to be with me on strictly sexual terms. That's not the kind of relationship I’m interested in.”

“So, you don’t _like_ it? Is that it? Some angelic thing?” She stepped a little closer, trying to work it out in her head. Who could date Castiel and not want to fuck him?

“Not exactly. I do… I enjoy it, but I don’t need it. I…” _Is he blushing?_ “I would like to, to order pizza with you,” he said with a small smile, “but the fact remains that if you didn’t want that, I would not be angry or disappointed.”

“So, if I said I didn’t want to get in your pants, you’d be a-okay with that?”

“I would.”

Meg felt the fight drain out of her. She sat down beside Cas on the table, not touching him, simply to not have to look in his eyes anymore. _I could say no._ The thought thrilled her. _I could say no, and I wouldn’t have to run, and I wouldn’t have to fight, and I wouldn’t have to be afraid._

“I don’t get it, Cas. Why would you keep me around if I didn’t want to fuck you?”

She could feel his eyes on her, and with every passing second she felt more and more exposed. He was quiet. Why was he so quiet? When she finally looked up, he was looking at her like she’d just kicked his puppy. Into the Cage.

“Because I love you, of course.” His voice was quiet, and sincere, and it made her eyes sting. “I enjoy your company. I want to make you happy, because you make me happy. I want to protect you. I want to hear your voice every day, even if you do nothing but tease me.” Everything in her wanted to say yes, and everything in her was terrified.

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“I won’t force you to stay, but Meg, you deserve to be loved, if not by me then by _someone_. I want you to know that I would like the chance to be that person.”

“What about Sam?”

“You and he have a bond, I know. Whatever you want that to become, that’s between you and Sam. But I know he wants you to stay for himself as well as for me. He cares for you.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I’m very new to all this,” he said with a small laugh. “Maybe it’s just complicated. I’m willing to take the risk.”

Cas’s hand rested between them on the table, not demanding, not touching, just _there_ . _You’re a goddamn unicorn_ , she thought. _You’re not real. You’re impossible. People like me don’t get to have this._ Meg’s hand was shaking, so she did the sensible thing and steadied herself by sliding her palm against Castiel’s. She leaned against his shoulder.

“Well, Clarence,” she said quietly, “I always wanted to try living in sin.”

* * *

“So you two… don’t?” Meg was sitting on the floor in front of Sam, and Castiel was asleep beside him on the couch, head in Sam’s lap. Sam had one hand on Cas’s shoulder and the other was stroking Meg’s hair. Since she’d moved in permanently, she’d become more and more cat-like, climbing in their laps, loving to be petted. And she’d always bitten when provoked, of course. That hadn’t changed. There was some documentary on TV, but only Cas had really been watching it.

Sam laughed quietly at the question; he had guessed it would be coming eventually. He didn't mind that Cas had told her, of course, but he still didn't feel quite prepared for this conversation.

“No, we don’t. We do other things, but not that.”

“Why not? Rumor has it you know what you’re doing, Winchester, and don’t try to tell me that angel isn’t the hottest piece of ass Heaven ever made.”

“Um, both true. I guess. But this is… really personal.”

“Right, and sharing a boyfriend, that’s not personal. Definitely not.” He stilled his hand in her hair. She wasn’t wrong; maybe this was something he should tell her, but it was still strange, bringing her into his life with Cas. They were still working out the boundaries. “Sorry,” she said, understanding his silence. “Not my business.”

“Look, I’ve never been… motivated that way.” He paused, wondering how much to tell her, how much she needed to know and how much he wanted her to know. He didn’t talk about this, but maybe he ought to. “I mean, I've enjoyed it before, but it was just never a priority. Anyway, since the apocalypse… It’s been hard to feel in control of my body sometimes. Like, it hasn’t always been mine, and sometimes I still feel like it isn’t. Like I’m just living in it ‘til somebody else moves in. You know?”

“Actually, yeah. I kinda do.” Meg leaned her head against Sam’s knee, and he felt some of the tension ease out of his shoulders.

“It’s not that I don’t want to with Cas, not exactly, but it would be for _him_ , not for _us_ , if that makes sense. And I don’t think I’d feel good about it. I don’t think I’d feel…”

“Safe?”

“Yeah, actually.” _Safe_. It was what he felt sleeping in Cas’s arms, or cooking breakfast with his family bustling around him, or here, in this moment. Safe. He started playing with Meg’s hair again, letting its softness and the way she leaned into him quiet his mind. She had dyed her hair black again, and it suited her. Or maybe it was just the way it made her smile more. “The Cage wasn’t safe,” he finally said. “And when I was there, my body wasn’t mine. My soul wasn’t mine. And sex reminds me of… of that.”

“I get it. Lucifer, he wasn’t exactly a gentle dom with me either, y’know? He had ways of making sure we all knew who was in charge. And I’m only barely in this body to begin with.”

“Is she, I mean, your vessel...?”

“Long gone. Which is good for her, and sure as hell makes me feel less creepy." She jabbed a finger into his calf. "If you tell anybody I said that, I’ll leave food in the Impala and tell Dean it was you. But yeah, there’s still echoes in here. Still bits that aren’t me. But the idea of not taking this baby for a ride once in a while… I don’t know. I’d rather be reminded of what I can do with it. With the right person.”

“Sure. And I’m glad you and Cas have that. It’s just… not for me.” He had spent a lot of time thinking about it, about the nights he slept alone, about the way Cas's hair stuck up more than usual the mornings after, how Meg sometimes made coffee those mornings to coax Cas out of bed. Part of him held a deep sorrow that he couldn't be part of that, but a bigger part saw their happiness and felt right. Felt that he had found a place in something very good.

“Yeah, but you two have stuff that’s just yours, too," Meg offered. "Wasn’t _me_ Clarence broke into fucking Mordor to save, that’s for damn sure. He’s head over heels, is our little angel, and that's one hell of a valentine.”

“He’s something special, isn’t he?” Sam asked, not mentioning her  _Lord of the Rings_ reference but secretly very proud.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she answered, wrapping her arms around his leg to keep herself up. Soon she’d be asleep; Sam knew they should go to bed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to disturb either of them, so he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. _Safe_ , he thought. _This is what safe means._

 


End file.
